The Void

July 17th, 2015

There’s something so sad about falling out of love with someone. When you’re simply left feeling empty, without feelings and certainly without anything else to put in that void.

Because even when your heart is breaking, you’re still in love. And there’s still a bit of excitement, a reminder that you’re alive. Even though there’s pain, there’s something else.

But getting over someone is the absence of that something, of anything. And it’s hard because you’re no longer waiting for them to come back. You don’t think you need them to live, and you’re not even sure that you would want to take them back. You’re confused, and you’re lost because you no longer have that drive. That drive that, for better or worse, gave you something to live for but also had you convinced that you couldn’t live without the very thing that was missing.

And perhaps this is all as jumbled as confused as my heart feels right now. Or maybe other people don’t feel this way as their feelings are fading away or, perhaps, becoming compartmentalized in some long-forgotten attic in their hearts.

Yes, there are positives I could take away from this situation that I’m not, but right now I think I need to feel — and respect — the emptiness, the loss of that drive, the confusion and the sadness that results from it all.

I’d almost rather feel the pain than nothing at all.


Fetish Fantasy Nipple Clamps [Comparison]

July 8th, 2015

Although I haven’t written about them before, I have tried nipple clamps. The pair I had were a generic rectangular, screw style. They were heavy enough to be noticeable, a sensation I quite like.

Unfortunately, the weight combined with a very loose screw meant they didn’t like to stay in place, and you certainly couldn’t tug on them if you wanted to — and I found that I did!

Pipedream was gracious enough to send me three styles of nipple clamps to try out, all from their Fetish Fantasy series. I figured this would give me a good idea of what I liked, and if I liked it enough, I could invest in more serious hardware down the line.

The three styles I received were magnetic nipple clamps, Japanese clover clamps and the poorly-named “tit clamps with chain.”

Fetish Fantasy Limited Edition Magnetic Nipple Clamps

These are probably my favorite clamps out of the bunch in terms of aesthetic. I really like how the hardware rings your nipple, and the gems on the sides helps them catch the light. I imagine this would be good for photography! The design might be a bit bulky or heavy for some.

Magnetic nipple clamp

Magnetic nipple clamp

The design is definitely the least painful out of the three sets I had to try. The clamp attach with magnetic crossbars through the rings that sit on either side of your nipples. You’ll need to pull them apart to place the nipple clamp on. It’s not difficult due to the strength of the magnets, but it works better with two hands. Maybe I’m just not dexterous enough.

The end at a “T” shape and you can choose to position the crossbars either flat against or perpendicular to your nipples. If your nipples are smaller, you might not be able to get a good fit with the magnetic crossbars no matter how you try to put them on. I pull mine outward to get them to stick.

I find lying the crossbar flat against my breast works best. . The pull of the magnet keeps it in place, and it’s not so strong as to really be painful.

However, it’s not so strong to really be painful. There is a bit of a pinch, but it’s probably not enough for someone who wants to feel — or cause — serious pain. I did accidentally cut my nipple by pulling them off, so there’s that. Ha!

It’s also not adjustable, which may cause a problem. They’re also not connected; although, I feel as it you could connect a chain of sorts around the rings. Be careful when you pull as the magnets aren’t the strongest thing ever – and the heavier design probably contributes to this. These could easily come off, and the magnets don’t pull strongly through the tip of a finger, for example. However, pulling the nipple clamps straight off isn’t painful, so they can be quickly removed!

Overall, these magnetic nipple clamps seem to be a bit more form than function, but I do find the sensation to be as enjoyable as the appearance. They just don’t whet the appetite of the more extreme kinksters.

Get them from Amazon here.

Fetish Fantasy Japanese Clover Clamps

This style of nipple clamp is more traditional, and many brands make them. They’re lightweight, even though they’re overall larger than the magnetic nipple clamps. You simply place your index finge and thumb opposite along the bottom and give a squeeze to open the pincers. Place a nipple between the padded — with what looks like silicone or plastic — pincers, and you’re good to go. It’s like using clothes pins as clamps, even though the clamps look more complicated.

Japanese clover clamp

Japanese clover clamp

The pincers open up about an inch, and can even hold something as thin as a piece of paper between them, so they’ll work for a larger variety of nipples than the magnetic clamps. It’ll squeeze the nipple flat as it applies pressure. It makes most sense to place it straight down; although, you could wear them to the side.

Although lightweight, clover clamps pack quite a punch. They’ll stay in place as you tug and pull on them, allowing you to provide more stimulation. Like a clothes pin, you could wrap something like a rubber band around the group to ease up the tension. Each of these clamps comes with a white cord, which won’t serve that function. To be honest, I’m not sure what the function is. It could be used for storage or to add a chain, but it’s tacky and doesn’t match the feel of the clamps themselves. I will probably cut them off.

$25 from Amazon.

Fetish Fantasy Series Tit Chain Clamps

The finally set of nipple clamps I have to review has the worst name and packaging of the bunch. Pipedream needs to get on that ASAP. But the name is self-explanatory. The pair of nipple clamps is connected by a chain, and a might heavy one at that, to pull down on the nipples and add sensation.

Tit clamps with chain

Tit clamps with chain

These are the smallest of all the clamps, with two little paddle shapes that sit on either side of your nipples. You’ll wear them perpendicular to your breast, like a larger version of the clover clamps. I find you need more finger strength to use these clamps, so the clover clamps might be a better option for someone with arthritis because the clamping part itself is so similar — just a different size.

If your nipples are smaller, they’ll pretty much be enveloped by the clamps, which is what happens to me. The pincers on the clover clamps are much smaller, which means you see more nipple if that’s your thing. The pincers separate just wide enough to get my fingers between them, but not my thumb, and I don’t have meatier fingers like some people.

In terms of sensation, these seem comparable to the clover clamps, but they’d be much harder to adjust.

$25 from Amazon.

If you’re just getting into nipple clamps, the magnetic clamps are attractive and the least harsh. For more intense pain, either the clover clamps are easy to use with one hand, and you can easily adjust with a rubber band or add a chain, if you’d like. Although the chain already comes with the “tit” clamps, they seem the cheapest made and least attractive of them all; plus, they require more hand strength to use.

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He’s Back

July 1st, 2015

Y’know, the guy on Tindr.

Actually, he returned a day later. I was confused when he popped up again, but swiped right.

He sent a message right away — that I didn’t see — about how he deleted his account because he was nervous. He apologized, but I played it cool.

We’ve talked a lot since then. He has a lot of downtime at work, and his schedule is third shift, during which I am usually awake.

We get on pretty well, but it’s been quiet for a while. And it will be while I’m back in Minnesota for an extended weekend.

This means it’ll also be quiet here, but I hope to return with reviews and some other awesome posts. I’ve got ideas!


6 Picture Mistakes Men Make on Tinder

June 25th, 2015

Having spent a little bit of time on Tinder over these last few weeks, I’ve found myself both frustrated and befuddled about some of the photos choices that guys make. And we’re not just talking about fish; although, there are plenty of those pictures to hate, too. No, it seems like guys don’t want me to swipe right — or is it left — when they do these things.

1. All of Their Photos Are Group Photos

Guys do this a lot. It’s great that you’re not addicted to selfies. It’s awesome that you have friends.  And that you fish, hunt, like your car/truck, have climbed mountains, go to parties and have tons of hot female friends. Except none of those things helps me determine who you are when I’ve never met you every picture is of multiple men. Often, those guys all look pretty similar. So give us a single, clear picture of your face or tell us who you are at the very least.

2. Photos Only Depict Animals

I like cats and dogs. I have cats. It’s cool that you do, too. Or something even weirder. But you’e not your pet. This shouldn’t be your main photo on Tinder (but maybe you can add just one). In fact, no one should use their pets — or kids! — as their profile picture on any social network.

3. There Are No Clear Facial Shots

Unless you’re only looking for the hookup so you plan to show off only your body for privacy reasons, then we want to see your face in a recent and flattering photo. With smart phones, it’s really not all that hard.

4. All Photos Show Are At the Gym/Flexing/Pulling Up Your Shirt

A good body is great, okay. But that doesn’t need to be all we see. After all, if you wear well-fitting clothing, your physique will show through just fine. And shouldn’t you make it seem like you’re not trying that hard? Maybe?

5. The Photos Look Like Honeymoon Pictures

Tinder is obviously a hookup app. If you’re with someone and haven’t made it clear that it’s open, you’re shooting yourself in the foot. Plus, I can’t help but wonder if guys use photos with their exes as an ego boost. Like “Look how hot my ex is!” This just rubs me the wrong way, every time. So while that may be a stellar picture of you, it probably shouldn’t be your main picture,

5. There Are Repeated Photos

Tinder’s profile options seem pretty buggy to me. I tried to upload one picture today, and it deleted 2 — including my profile picture. But it doesn’t take long to double check and fix those errors.

6. There Are No Photos At all

For a micro-dating service that provides only two ways for people to learn anything about it, it’s important that you utilize the most important method — photos. I think I speak for most people when we realize you have low self-esteem if you refuse to post photos. Most people might not be attracted to you, but no one will have the chance if you don’t let them at least see you.

And while some people will tell you not to use selfies, that’s a far lesser offense than doing any of these things in my opinion. At least I know what you look like when you do that!


Between the Shores: Erotica with Consent

June 19th, 2015

Often, in erotica, consent is implied but not necessarily discussed. In poor erotica, like Fifty Shades of Grey, it’s outright abused through force. But once thing that kinksters actually know is that consent is a must. And in Between the Shores, talented authors show us that consent can be sexy, too.

This collection of erotica is therefore a little different than others. Consent may be incidental in some erotic stories, and often is when it comes to those about BDSM, but it takes front and center in this anthology, by Annabeth Leong, T. C. Mill and Alex Freeman, of twenty stories. It’s one of the offerings from The New Smut Project, a collective of people who want to publish erotica featuring “high-quality writing and nuanced, diverse characterization.” And you can’t really argue with that.

In fact, I would say the quality of Between the Shores if among the best of all the erotica I’ve read, and that says something given how many books I’ve reviewed. I am particularly reminded of Red Velvet and Absinthe, one of my favorite collections from a few years ago, which features supernatural sex and romance. I found it surprising how the theme of consent worked so well with supernatural sexuality. This is the case with “Vine” by Melissa Snowdon, which is as creative as it is sultry. In fact, it reminds me just a bit of something you might read by Neil Gaiman.

“Waiting for the Light to Change” is another story with supernatural origins, something like lycanthropy. I always find this theme extremely hot! And T.C. Mill, one of the editors, has also contributed a story in which a vampire-like alien who has made her way to Earth negotiates a way to sate her literal bloodlust with her chosen human lover. This might be my favorite of all the stories as it combines romance, consent, vampirism and kink.

Obviously, the theme of consent lends itself well to stories involving bondage. “Rolling Deep” is just one of several. But consent also allows characters to explore – and push boundaries – and sometimes not to push those boundaries at all. This means at least one of the stories in this book was a bit anti-climactic for me, even though it absolutely meets the requirements of consent.

For example, “How Can I Meet You” is a thoughtful delving into what two women will do to meet the other’s needs while having their own limits. Those limits are certainly interesting but not necessarily erotically inspiring, so I did occasionally find myself skipping ahead to the sexy parts of stories like that.

The last story I’d like to mention is one of the last in the book. In “Undercover Cops: EXPOSED” we get an interesting mix of suspense, cross-dressing, bisexuality (or perhaps just curiosity) and consent within the confines of a police mystery. Skip ahead a few stories and you’ve got a swashbuckling erotic thriller that ends this book on a high note!

It’s hard not to mention nearly every store in this book because the focus in literature and high-quality writing provides the reader with an experience that provokes the mind as much as it does the clit. If this is what we can expect from this company, it’s definitely one to keep an eye on!

Between The Shores offers such a variety of erotica literature. It’s not heteronormative in the lease.  We see entanglements between strangers, established partners and everything in between. There are threesomes, including the sexy negotiation that happens in “The Art of Improvisation,” written by Alex Freeman. There’s even a story that analyzes the ability to consent while being woken up to sex while also touching on consent and mental illness. It’s wonderfully done in a loving way. Props to Lark Green for that!

Even though not every book in this collection was exactly my book of tea, it was a nice departure from standard erotica. If you buy this as a Kindle version right now, you’ll save 50%. It’s under $4. It’s practically free!


My 12-Hour Tinder “Boyfriend”

June 19th, 2015

I once read an article about a woman who had a boyfriend for a weekend. She met him, he came back to her place in NYC. They had sex, watched TV, played games, went for strolls and dined at the sorts of places that we don’t really have here because we’re not New York City. Then, after the weekend, he finally returned home and they never spoke again.

It was interesting enough that I remembered it. It makes little sense to me that you can enjoy the company of a person that much and not make an effort to keep in touch, even if the chemistry of the weekend was a one-time-only deal.

But as a single, divorced person, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact the dating is, in fact, fucking weird. One of you can feel chemistry where the other doesn’t. You can get along beautiful but still something will prevent one of you from wanting to date the other. The two of you can be great on paper but just don’t have a spark in person, or you could both admittedly like each other but not know how to make the move – and the right time will pass.

It was so difficult for me to understand, when I was younger, how timing really does matter. It seems just bullshit if you believe in the one or true love or what-have-you. If you love a person, you just make it work. It’s just that easy. Except it never is that easy and timing does matter.

Case in point.

I am on Tinder, sort of. It’s the sort of resigned and detached relationship one has with online dating and hooking up when all most of one’s first dates have been terrible, nothing has panned out save for a few friendships — one with the hot nerd — and meeting people in person isn’t actually any less stressful because of one’s anxiety.

So my relationship with Tinder has been, sign on, swipe a few people. Figure no one will like me or want to deal with an urban-ish chick living in central Wisconsin without a car, leave the app and forget about it. Repeat every 1 – 2 weeks. Except this time. This time, I signed on at a different time. My options were different, and I came across a guy who I found attractive enough and who piqued my interests with his words. I liked him.

And he liked me back!

And he sent a message almost immediately. So we chatted on and off all day. There was a lot of laughter, some flirting and general fun as we discussed video games, ponies and other things. It was lighthearted, but I stayed up later than usual to talk to him.

I finally fell asleep and woke up to a message, which I replied to, making fun of him in a friendly manner. I fell back asleep, excited to see his reply in the morning.

But it didn’t come. Not only was there no reply, but he has either blocked me or deleted his account because I can’t even see him in my list. Which makes me sad. And flabbergasted. There was fun and chemistry. We talked all day. Then you up and disappear? What gives.

I’ve experienced this a few times, and this is the second time this year. I’ll find someone who’s not only good on paper but to whom I am attracted. We’ll chat and have fun. He disappears.

But there seemed to be so much undeniable chemistry with this guy, and that is quite rare for me. There was so much chemistry that my mind couldn’t help but race ahead to future possibilities. Which makes it stings all the more.

Now, I know I was getting ahead of myself, but even if that weren’t the case, the “What gives?” still stands. Perhaps he didn’t feel chemistry like I did. Maybe I said something that rubbed him the wrong way or perhaps he decided against this Tinder thing all together (he did say he’s shy). Maybe someone better came along. He might have wanted me to initiate a meeting more quickly than I did. It is a hookup app, after all. I guess I’ll never know.

But even though it’s confusing and a bit hurtful, it gives me hope that it’s not entirely impossible for me to meet someone who makes the old heart pitter-patter again.


Best Sex Writing of the Year, Volume 1

June 14th, 2015

Another year, another edition of Best Sex Writing. Actually, this anthology of essays, blog posts and personal tales doesn’t come out every year, but we’re fortunate to have a release this year. This is the first since Best Sex Writing 2013, and it’s a bit different from previous options due to a new editor, Jon Pressick.

Thus, Best Sex Writing of the Year, Volume 1 sounds like the first title in a brand-new series, but it’s actually not. So if you’ve read any of the previous Best Sex Writing books, then you know what to expect from this one. And if you haven’t, you’re in for a collection of stories and articles to entertain and inform.

There’s plenty that’s familiar with the books that are now edited by Mr. Pressick, who you might know as the brains behind Sex in Words. For instance, there is a touching piece from Joan Price, who knows how to tug at my heart strings when discussing her deceased husband, and a piece about what exactly we should call sex toys by our own Epiphora. The former editor, Rachel K. Bussel, has even submitted a thought-provoking piece on sobriety and BDSM.

Best Sex Writing of the Year incorporates personal stories with professional studies and everything in between. Per usual, I find myself somewhat more enamored with the chapters that analyze sex and society from a scientific/research viewpoint. However, some of those personal pieces were interesting. Two such stories were those by former porn star Danny Wylde and current porn star Story. Wylde discusses his sex life after porn and Story discusses her mother’s influence on sex education, feminism and motherhood.

In another piece dedicated entirely to the industry of sex work, Laura Augustin looks at the complicated and often heart-breaking relationship that sex work and sex workers have with the world at large. Often ignored, penalized by laws and ignored by police, these people are treated as less than human and stigmatized. The article is insightful, articulate and well-researched.

There’s also a great op-ed from Alexandria Goddard, the blogger who is responsible for outting the young men of Steubenville who participated in, recorded and later posted about on social media the gang rape of a woman woman. Goddard was undoubtedly crucial to bringing these men to justice, and like her title says, wouldn’t change anything about what she did, even though she received a lot of flack for her actions.

There are too many stories to name individually. Jiz Lee and Mollena Williams discuss fisting and desire/submission, respectively. Tina Horn’s chapter about The Gates, a dominatrix house in Califonia, was telling and relateable, even to someone who has never been a prodomme.

In the pages of Best Sex Writing of the Year, you’ll find memoirs that make you cry, articles that enrage you and personal stories that make you chuckle and nod in understanding. Topics range from sex toys to laws to BDSM to sex work and everything in between. No corner of sexuality is left in the dark of this year’s anthology, and the collection is not only one of superb pieces by intelligent writers who love to talk about sex. Like other books in this series, and perhaps this is why I love it so much, it encourages you to talk — and think — about sex in new ways, as often as you can, and to everyone upon whom you happen.



June 8th, 2015

I cannot help but compare Ovo’s S2 to a boat. A good-lookin’ but sinkable boat. Had I more invested than whether I got off, I might describe it to the Titanic. Fortunately, I did not.

My comparison is quite literally. The shape of the S2, a clitoral vibrator that the manufacturer thinks you can lay on — hence the official name — is like a boat. It’s not entirely unlike the Bsoft by Bswish, of which I’ve tried both versions. I’ve since passed them on to new owners and homes because the shape and vibrators just don’t do it for me. The S2 will soon follow suit for fairly similar reasons.

I do think the S2 is better in terms of size. It’s less than 4 inches long and only about 1.6 inches thick, which means it doesn’t seem like an overly-large sex toy. The curved white side, which presses against your body, fits between your labia, and it becomes wider toward the top, which curves downward for you to rest your hand and press the buttons.

Shapewise, the S2 is a bit of a letdown because it doesn’t offer the pressure I like. Neither the shape of the smooth plastic nor the curve of the top allows me to comfortable press my fingers against it for the clitoral stimulation that I prefer, no, need to get off. Attempting to do so with the S2 was like a challenge I knew was doomed to fail. I can’t even recall if I did orgasm. If so, it was difficult and unforgettable — not words anyone would want to use to describe masturbation.

The shape wasn’t helped by the vibrations, which felt like they were coming from the middle or top of the vibrator rather than focused on the bottom, you know, the part you actually press against yourself. Perhaps the shape and hard plastic caused the vibrations to defuse in a lackluster way, but no matter what the reason, the result is the same: disappointment.

I prefer strong and deep vibrations externally. The deeper they are, the weaker they can be while still getting me off. This is why I like Laya Spot. It’s not the strongest vibe I own by far, but it’s definitely got deep enough vibrations to help. It’s also why I prefer the Miracle Massager to the Inspire, especially when the Inspire is on its higher settings. This is also true of the S2, which has two steady vibration settings, the higher of which is noticeably buzzier.

These two settings are followed by escalation, pulsation, fast pulsation, fast-fast-short pulsation, an a somewhat random-seeming pulsation setting. Without the power to back them up, those settings are all forgettable. The two buttons cycle back and forth through each setting, while the button closest to the edge must be held to power the S2 on and off.

I’m also not entirely thrilled by the buttons on the Ovo. With so much space, they could be bigger and easier to find and press. I like the soft buttons on the Siri much better in comparison; although, I’m not so thrilled about the 4-button layout or position. Indeed, I think the S2’s buttons could be moved further down the body to make more sense. My fingers point downward when I’m masturbating, toward the other end. This may be because of the amount of pressure I like.

The product video calls them luminated. Um. no. There’s a random LED under the silicone near them, but that’s it.

Interestingly, the top of the S2 is made of silicone but the part that actually touches you isn’t. This makes for a slicker sensation, and a little drag might even be beneficial. I don’t see why it’s all not plastic, to be honest; although, the design is rather contemporary and attractive.

Like most rechargeable vibrator’s, Ovo’s S2 comes with a USB charger. It comes with no adapter but you can use the one with your phone or pick one up for $1 at many retailers. SheVibe sells one for $7, but the price is marked up pretty high. There is a sticker on the cable that says it goes with the S2, which is handy.

My experience with OVO toys have just been disappointing. While the designs are pleasant to look at, performance has been mediocre. I’ll have to try an insertable before I bring down the hammer, but my hopes aren’t high.



Female Sexuality: Redacted and Undefined?

June 3rd, 2015

There is a process I go through, a process with which most of us are familiar, every time I get a new device. Even reformatting my Android phone or switching between keyboard apps makes this process a necessary one. It’s the act of adding words, whether slang, inside jokes or simply those left out for some reason or another by the keyboard developer.

I’ve posted screenshots of my personal dictionary to my friends because I was amused at the content. As you’d expect if you’d ever had a conversation with me in person, there are four-letter words in all their versions. If it can be used a noun, an adjective and a verb, I will love it all the more as a practical tool. Perhaps this is why “Fuck” truly is one of my favorite words. I can construct sentences from “Fuck” using only different tenses and word forms, and those all appear in my personal dictionaries.

personal dictionary

Swype isn’t down with sexting

Now, you can certainly write me off as a pervert with a dirty mouth, and I wouldn’t argue with that descriptor. It’s certainly not untrue. But it’s not painting the whole picture. You see, when my dictionary consists almost solely of words such as “cock” or “cunt,” it paints an even picture of the type of words that are withheld — and sometimes even suppressed — by the creators of these apps.

At best, it portrays them as prudes who are overly concerned with protecting their users from inappropriate conduct. And I don’t think “cunt” necessarily needs to be a suggestion as I hastily swipe away on my phone’s screen. This particular slang isn’t so common that it need pop up in our everyday communications, but what about “Sex?” Regardless of keyboard or how frequently I use that word — and you can bet it’s often! — no keyboard I’ve ever used has wanted to make it easier for me to easily add one of my most favorite words to a communique.

At worst, it highlights how ingrained misogyny is in our society. Yes, you’ve read that correctly. When I first picked up my Kindle Fire, I couldn’t imagine a specific time that I would send a message or post a tweet discussing vulvas and clits, especially given the awkwardness of the default — and only — keyboard. But I knew that time would come one day. It was a matter of when and not if.

I was utterly taken aback when the medical words, the correct terminology for female body parts, the very phrases that some people refuse to use erotically because they’re too cold and clinical sounding, were completely missing from my keyboard’s default dictionary. I couldn’t talk about my — or any — clitoris or vulva, even in a nonsexual sense, without first adding those words to a dictionary.

And, yes, I checked to see whether my Kindle was already aware of “penis.” It would appear that Amazon had truly developed a dick-tionary, a collection of vocabulary that acknowledged and suggested the rightful terms for a man’s reproductive organs but not those belonging to women. You can talk about the perineum, the anus and even testicles, but you’ll have to add “vagina.” It’s like this potential space in the human body has been obscured by the retail giant, like the non-sexual organs possessed by Alan Rickman’s angel character in the movie “Dogma.”

Ironically, my tablet recognize “kegels.” But I have to wonder if this is only because this is the name of a man, a doctor, who developed them. Without the vagina with which to do these exercises, that word certainly loses its usefulness! At least my Kindle produces this suggestion after having added the word to my user dictionary, rather than keeping it hidden away because it knows damned well why it was hidden in the first place!

There is some part of me that admits we live in a society both appalled by and obsessed with sex, and she is not overly surprised by these omissions of the suppression of sexually suggestive, well, suggestions when it comes to smartphone keyboards. It may be 2015, but I’m still forward thinking when compared to some. But there is no part of me that think this is an acceptable policy when only applied to female sexual organs in their most basic variations that are easily found in a traditional dictionary.

Are we still so uncomfortable with sex as a whole that we must police technology to discourage the use of clinical vernacular? Are we so obsessed with not talking about sex that nothing other than unhelpful, cutesy slang for our body parts, our orgasms and our sexual activity must be used, much to the chagrin of reviewers, sex educators and others like myself who talk about sex on a daily basis?

What does it say about a society when we obscure a woman’s body parts with black bars on TV screens and lines of code on our devices? A woman may have those parts — indeed, a trans-woman must have those parts to be considered as such — and there’s no negotiation that she must make them available to men. But she musn’t display or talk about them

Perhaps what it says about society is less important than what it does to society. It leads to woman in 50-year marriages without not a single orgasm to show for it. Women spend decades not receiving oral sex from partners who routinely accept blowjobs from their partners. They don’t discuss sex with their partners or even view talking about one of the most important elements of their relationship as a priority. It starts when we’re children, and it never ends for some people. Thanks to the Internet, more people are discussing sex than ever, discovering what their bodies can do, expanding their sexual satisfaction and improving their lives.

But the wrong messages — or no messages at all — are still being spread in other places. Teen girls aren’t even aware that masturbation is something they can do because sex ed only mentions boys jacking off. As a teenager, I once had to explain to my friend that her urethra and vagina weren’t the same body part. I’m constantly shocked about the number of women who can’t name their own reproductive organs or give even a brief overview of how their birth control works!

Women are afraid to discuss sexual function and dysfunction to the point of accidental but completely preventable pregnancy. A shockingly-large portion of women are afraid to discuss these things with doctors, medical professionals who should be at the front line, helping to combat sexually-transmitted infections and raise awareness about cancers other than break cancer one month out of a year.

The implications are worrying and far more vast than I could articular in these paragraphs. Indeed, it seems like I could write an entire book about the ramifications of dusting female sexuality under the rug.

This is why so-called scientists are still publishing articles debunking female ejaculation as a myth and British lawmakers have banned essentially any pornography focusing on a woman’s pleasure. Are we only allowed to discuss female sexuality inasmuch as it pertains to a man? Is it only okay to speak of it in hushed whispers but not in any manner where another person or computer can bear witness to the conversation having taken place to begin with?

Whether in print or on the screen, every effort is made to ban us from discussing, discovering and divulging what is one of the most important aspects of humanity — and certainly the most important aspect of myself as a person and a woman — and so few people seem to notice, let alone care.

But I cannot help but care. Because I am a woman. I have a vagina, a vulva and a clitoris. They don’t always make me happy, but they are mine. And I want to help others feel the same about their own parts.

I care because I want to send messages to my lovers about my cunt. I want to continue writing articles and sex toy reviews on this blog. I want to encourage my peers to seek medical advice when something seems amiss with their vaginas, and I don’t want to hear another living soul refer to the entire vulva as a pussy. I don’t want anyone to think they must call their vaginal canal a “vajayjay.”

And I certainly can’t stand that idea that anyone would subconsciously internalize, even for a second, the idea that discussion any of these things — and so many more — is taboo because their so-called smartphones don’t offer the terms as suggestions.



June 2nd, 2015

I’ve been sick for three weeks, and I’m just over it. I don’t want to test toys or blog about it. i don’t want to do anything other than watch FRIENDS while lying on my couch. And maybe order pizza. Maybe.